


Topeka Calling

by RisingPhoenix761



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Cas doesn't have a clue, Crack, Dean Winchester Has a Bad Day, Embarrassment, Explicit Language, Gen, Phone Sex, but he does have sex appeal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 05:18:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20304085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisingPhoenix761/pseuds/RisingPhoenix761
Summary: Cas has caller ID. That hunter from Topeka has an itch. Dean just wants a refill.





	Topeka Calling

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a Bad Smut challenge, which got a lot less challenging when I realized all I had to do was keep Cas in character. XD Have fun!

Cas was reading the Sunday newspaper, a routine he began during his time as a human. Politics, finance, and travel were all relatively fascinating, but he had grown fond of the comics. Simple-minded and foolish at first glance, they were oddly endearing, and the humor was surprisingly intelligent on occasion.

He found Garfield particularly amusing.

His grace was long since restored, along with his power, but he still read the comics. He sat in the bunker’s kitchen with the paper and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, enjoying the quaint ritual of things he loved as a human. It gave him perspective to remember how much the little things matter, and Dean was always telling him to relax and get the stick out of his ass.

Cas could never recall having any twigs or branches in his rear, but there was no point in telling Dean that.

He finished the first page and turned to the second, reaching for his sandwich, when his phone rang. He vaguely recognized the name accompanying the number–a hunter in Topeka who was near enough to be helpful when necessary, though Cas had only met her twice. He answered it with a brief “Hello?”

“Hey.” Her voice was soft and breathy, barely a whisper over the line. He didn’t remember her sounding that sultry, but he had only met her twice. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

“Oh,” he replied, a little surprised. “Well, that’s–”

“I need you so bad.”

Cas went serious. “Is it a hunt?” he asked. “Do you need help?”

“Oh yeah, baby,” she said, the words more exhale than speech. “I need your help right now, you sexy thing.”

He paused, suddenly confused. “I admit, I can be useful, and I do have some sex appeal,” he said, “but–”

“I can’t stop thinking about that night,” she went on, “how unbelievably hot you were, how bad I wanted to rip all of your clothes off you…”

“That sounds like you were reacting to the adrenaline triggered by the hunt,” Cas replied. “Exhilaration, aggression, arousal–”

“I’m thinking about it right now,” she added, “while I’m touching myself.”

He frowned in thought. “Are you perhaps scratching your head?”

She laughed, but it didn’t sound like any laughter he was used to. It was low and throaty, somewhere between a chuckle and a giggle. “You’re so funny…”

He smiled to himself, pleased with the compliment. He did read the comics, after all.

She breathed a little heavier, a soft moan coming over the line, and he thought he heard a faint humming noise in the background, like an appliance was running. “I want you…I want your big, fat cock in my pussy…”

If he were prone to that sort of reaction, Cas would have dropped the phone. “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, yeah, baby!” Her voice grew louder and more frantic until she was nearly shouting. “I want your juicy man sausage! I wanna bury it in my lady garden!”

“Are you talking about fornication or horticulture?”

“Run that by me again?”

Cas glanced up to see Dean entering the kitchen and heading for the coffee pot, an empty cup in hand and a look of utter stupefaction on his face. “I’m on the phone,” Cas told him. “It’s that hunter from Topeka. I believe she’s suggesting we have intercourse, but I don’t think I understand her metaphors.”

“What?”

“Pump it in me, Daddy!” came the shout through the phone. “Rail me until you explode!”

“There’s an odd noise in the background,” Cas added. “What could she have with her that makes a vibrating sound?”

“Oh my God, Cas…” Dean groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face while she continued to make passionate exclamations about scoring home runs with stiff wooden love bats.

“Dean, she’s talking nonsense, but…” Cas glanced down at his lap where, hidden by his slacks, his member stood half erect and was on its way to full attention. “I seem to be aroused by it, nonetheless.”

Dean gave him a scandalized look and threw his hands into the air. “That’s it,” he said, turning towards the hall, “I’m out of here.”

“GOD, YES, DEAN, FUCK ME!”

Both angel and human froze in place, momentarily stunned, then Cas spoke into the phone, “I think you have the wrong number.” He handed it to Dean. “It’s for you.”

Dean took the phone looking like a deer in the headlights, if Cas remembered the saying correctly. “Hello?” he asked, hesitant. “Yes, this is Dean…no, no, that was my buddy Cas. Trench coat? Kinda squinty? Stick up his ass?”

Cas rolled his eyes, then looked back at his lap and repeated to himself, “Juicy man sausage?” Then he shrugged and returned to his sandwich, reaching for the newspaper. He wondered what Garfield was up to this week…


End file.
